Corrupting America’s Youth

I had Ryland out for a restroom break in the side yard. The school bus pulled up by my driveway and started disgorging kids. A few wandered off up the road, but one of the neighbors kids made a beeline straight to me.

He was wound up tighter than Dick’s hatband when he saw me. The first words out of his mouth were, “Hey Jim ! When are you taking me hunting ?” He hadn’t forgotten the promise I made earlier this summer to get him out in the woods this Fall season.

OK, boy — what do you have in mind ?

He wanted to go bow hunting for deer. Well it IS the season for bows, but not guns yet. Do you have a bow and some arrows ? He has an old toy bow his brother doesn’t do anything with, but no arrows. "Well go get it and let’s see what you have to work with."

He ran inside to dump his school books and grab the little toy bow. We dragged an old foam rubber buck down and propped it against the chicken coop. He’s never shot a bow before in his life, so I had to teach him how to hold it and load an arrow. I loaned him one of my homemade arrows, and they’re just a bit too long…. But it was close enough for a first try. His first release flew about 2 feet and dropped on the ground. Here kid….. pay attention again. You’ll learn to get it right, or we’ll stay here all day until you do.

The neighbor’s kid

Eventually he was able to make the arrow fly reasonably straight, but kept sticking the arrows in the side walls of the chicken coop. Hey — let’s move you closer to the target. We stayed at it until he was finally sticking the arrows in into the deer. It started to drizzle rain and we ended the lesson with one final shot. His last shot was from 10 feet, but he finally stuck the vital area of the foam. He was full of questions and I answered them as well as I could, but he kept rapid firing them faster than I could answer. It turns out one of his buddies at school has been giving him “bum scoop” about deer hunting. No, no, no. That’s wrong, I’d answer him. Sounds to me like your buddy is full of crap about hunting. "No Jim, he says his dad has taken him a few times and he knows what he’s talking about." Nope. "No he doesn’t boy, sounds to me he’s just making things up and blowing hot air at you to make himself sound smarter."

Caught me in mid draw before I had my string all the way back

Ever since I took this boy out on the Harley to go kayaking with Ryland this summer, he’s been pestering me to teach him more about outdoors stuff. So yep. That’s what I’m doing.

Corrupting your children one at a time and teaching them how the real world works. If I can get him to park his X-Box controller long enough — I might be able to get this kid to learn to appreciate nature more. With his mother’s permission, of course, I’ll take the boy to the local Sporting Goods store and get him a real bow and some arrows. I don’t know how much they’ll cost, but they can’t be that expensive. Maybe something similar to what I hunt with. Either a recurve or a small longbow, and some fiberglass arrows.

The boy’s first hit at 10 feet

It started to drizzle rain and we ended the lesson with one final shot. His last shot was from 10 feet, but he finally stuck the vital area of the foam.

His little multi tool

He had found a rusty old multi tool out playing in the woods near home. I oiled it up and cleaned off the rust and showed him how it’s used. Now he wants to start carrying it in his pocket. I told him he might not be able to carry it at school because they’d take it away from him.

I’m already corrupting him with manners. Yes Sir, no Sir, please and thank you are now a part of his vocabulary. I don’t know what his reading and comprehension levels are yet — but I’m about to turn this kid onto the outdoor classics. Kephart, Sears, Townsend Whelen, Stewart Edward White, and WMD “Karamojo” Bell. Might even have to see about tossing in some of Thoreau’s Walden while we’re at it. This — despite the fact that Thoreau had his mom actually bringing him his food and doing his laundry while he stayed in the cabin out in the woods. But it’ll give the boy an appreciation for the backwoods. Hmmmm….. would Robert Frost’s poems be a bit too much, ya think ? Well — that remains to be seen. Might be too much reading for a 12 year old.